


do you want a little bit of my love?

by ohprongs



Series: malec single parent aus [5]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, Malec AU, Single Parent AU, as always: max is a lightwood only and rafael is a bane only, background clizzy, but i used it for one of my other fics and it’s staying, human!AU, i know brooklyn has way more than one elementary school, lets all pretend this is how schools deal with problems like this okay? okay, single parents yo, thanks matt ‘i punched dom in the ear…but he was okay’ daddario for the insp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohprongs/pseuds/ohprongs
Summary: or, the ‘our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favourite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it’ au





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am???? so bad at updating this single parent fic series??? i'm not just a lazy butt i swear, i've been writing a lot of other stuff recently
> 
> apparently simon works in java jones again like in part 2 of the familiar strangers series, but this time alec is a single parent. continuity who?
> 
> title from _super duper love_ by joss stone

_Bagel? More like bagone, right, darling? ;D_

The neon pink Post-It note is stuck at an infuriatingly jaunty angle on the curved glass display unit and Alec can practically _feel_ the muscle in his neck jump as he reads it.

He is not admiring the pun. He is not thinking about the warm hand that traced the smooth cursive onto the paper. He is not blushing over the winking face and term of endearment.

Because, really, how ridiculous can he get? 

The most Alec knows about the person who leaves him all these Post-Its is that he’s a guy, that he’s really hot, and that he loves everything bagels (the first two pieces of information come from Simon, the annoying barista who always seems to be working at Java Jones’ whenever Alec is in there, and the last is plainly obvious from the fact that it’s what the guy always orders).

Oh, yeah. And that the mystery guy loves to rile Alec by leaving him silly notes about taking the last damn bagel. 

What a dick.

Alec really doesn’t need this right now. It’s not even lunchtime and already he’s had a call from Brooklyn Elementary School to say Max has been sent to the Principal’s office - again - so he’s got to beg some time off work to go and sort _that_ mess out. 

He really, really needs this bagel to get him through.

See, Alec’s colleagues always rib him about the fact that he works for his Mom’s law firm, Lightwood & Lightwood, but that doesn’t mean she lets him off. In fact, she keeps making snide remarks about the frequency of Alec’s trips to the school about Max’s bad behaviour, and he’s just about had enough. The last time, she’d actually tried to suggest that Max needed a woman’s influence, and that maybe Alec should consider finding a girlfriend to help him raise Max in a _stable, traditional environment_. 

He ended the call and threw his phone across the room at that one.

“You are joking, right?” Alec asks Simon the annoying barista. “Is he doing this on purpose or something?”

Simon shrugs. “I guess. I don’t think he even likes the bagels that much.”

Alec rubs at his temples. “You _are_ joking.”

“Nope. He was like, ‘This everything bagel is a disgrace. There’s no beef jerky in it!’ and I was like, ‘Alright, Jake Peralta, what can I get you instead, then?’” Simon pauses. “Then he looked at me a bit like how you’re looking at me now, actually.”

“Well, at least I’d have an accomplice if I ever needed one,” Alec mutters, but Simon doesn’t look the least bit worried.

“Death by Post-It note,” he muses. “That’s an interesting way to go.”

Alec just orders a cappuccino and almond croissant to takeaway, and definitely does not start writing Murdering Baristas for Dummies in his head.

∞

The coffee is cold by the time Alec gets to Brooklyn Elementary, but he’s mostly finished the thing anyway. He makes his way to Reception and throws the cup in the trash before wandering over to the front desk.

“Hi,” Alec says. “I’m Alec Lightwood, my son Max has been called to the, uh, Principal’s office. Can I go through?”

“One moment please,” the woman says, picking up her phone. She speaks to someone for a moment, and then nods to him. “Sign in, please, then down the hallway and take the first left.”

Alec declines to tell her he knows the way by heart already.

Max is perched on the edge of a plastic chair, staring sullenly at his shoelaces when Alec reaches him. He doesn’t look up as Alec sits down.

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the bustle of the office. Alec can hear the muffled sounds of conversation from the Principal’s office.

“What happened, _mijo_?” asks Alec eventually.

Max pouts. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“What wasn’t?”

“Nothing,” says Max quickly, looking up at Alec for the first time.

“Right,” says Alec. “Should I just get Principle Herondale to tell me what went on, then?”

“No!” Max claps a hand over his mouth, then lowers it slowly. His two top front teeth are only just poking through, and he looks adorable when he turns his big eyes to Alec.

Wait, no. Alec is supposed to be _angry_.

He tries to put on his stern face as he regards Max.

“He said my drawing was rubbish,” Max mumbles. “He said he was gonna throw it in the trash but I worked so hard on it and he just said that it should be got rid of and I…” Alec raises an eyebrow. “I hit him. Only a little bit. On the ear. He was okay. There wasn’t any blood."

“O-kay,” Alec says slowly. “Who said the mean things?”

Max doesn’t get a chance to answer before the Principal’s door opens. Alec only glances up for a moment, but then he gets distracted because it’s -

Of _course_ it is.

Alec occasionally actually loses sleep over the fact that he has the biggest crush on Max’s enemy’s dad. He feels like he’s back in high school every time they meet, which is - unfortunately - always outside the Principal’s office. But it just happens that Rafael Bane’s father literally looks like a god, and even though he feels weirdly like he’s betraying Max or something, Alec can’t help but stare whenever they see each other.

He just about manages to avert his eyes in time, so that Rafael's Dad doesn’t report him to the police for being excessively creepy. Or something.

Principal Herondale opens her door and nods to Alec and Max.

“Mr Lightwood,” she calls. She tilts her head to meet Max’s eye. “And Mr Lightwood. If you’d like to come in.”

∞

Walking into Max and Rafael’s homeroom gives Alec some kind of nostalgic trip. He remembers reading colourful books, playground-scraped knees, finding Izzy in the canteen for lunch. School memories hit him powerfully and he almost sits obediently on the floor when he hears his name called.

“Mr Lightwood?” That’s Mrs Branwell, Max and Rafael’s teacher. She’s a no-nonsense and by-the-rules kind of teacher, but also fair and imaginative, and Alec knows she’s good to her kids. “If you would take a seat over there?” 

She gestures vaguely in the direction of the window, so Alec pulls out a chair and sits down. 

It was Principal Herondale’s idea for Max and Rafael to air their grievances with each other in a safe environment, with their parents there as both a figure of support and to - hopefully - stop the situation escalating too much. 

Maryse had asked one of their interns to give Alec a lift to the school, and the intern spent the whole time telling Alec how she wanted to get into family law to help children, because they needed the support and protection of those who could give it, and didn’t he think children were the future?

Alec suspects his mother chose that particular intern to become his cab driver for a reason. He makes a note to have a word with Maryse later.

“And Mr Bane, if you could just sit opposite - yes, that’s great.” 

Mrs Branwell looks between Rafael and Max. They’re sitting in a triangle, with Alec and Rafael's Dad just on the outside, giving the boys an opportunity to talk.

“So, we’re here to give you -” she looks to each boy in turn “- a chance to talk about why you haven’t been getting along recently, and we’re going to sort this problem out. Yeah?” The boys nod, somewhat reluctantly. “Good. Would either of you like to go first?”

Max’s bottom lip plops out and Rafael shakes his head. 

Mrs Branwell inhales slowly. “Okay, should I decide?”

Max opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again. “I’ll go,” he volunteers.

“Great. Max, can you tell us all, what would you say was the start of your disagreement with Rafael?”

After a glance back to Alec, Max speaks. “At the beginning of the year when we were doing ‘My Family’ we did those paintings and Rafael laughed at me because I don’t have a mommy,” he says. Alec’s chest constricts and he has to look away.

“I didn’t!” Rafael protests.

“Rafael, we’re gonna give Max a chance to speak, and then you can have your turn, okay?” Mrs Branwell says. 

“And that made me feel sad,” Max continues.

Well, shit. Alec didn’t plan on having his heart broken today, but life’s full of surprises.

“And then at recess Rafael fell off the swing and he said I pushed him which I didn’t and he got me in trouble. And then he threw his empty milk carton at me. And then he trod on my fingers in gym class. And he said my drawings were rubbish. That’s why I don’t like him.”

Max seems to have exhausted his list, and Alec is relieved, to say the least. The rest of the things just sound like standard kid dramas, but…

The first one? Yeah, that was a sucker-punch to the gut.

“Rafael, would you like your turn?”

Rafael nods and sits up straighter on his chair. “When we did ‘My Family’ I saw Max’s drawing and I asked him about it and he said, ‘That’s Daddy and Aunt Someone and Uncle Whoever’ and I said, ‘What about your mommy?’ and he said, ‘I don’t have one’, so I laughed and -”

“ _See!_ ”

“Max, it’s Rafael’s turn, okay?”

“- I laughed and I was going to say ‘Snap, we’re the same,’ but then he got cross and stomped on my foot.” Rafael throws a glare in Max’s direction. “And then he hit me extra extra hard in dodgeball and he said the food I bring for lunch is weird and he did a rubbish drawing of me when we had to draw each other, just to be mean, _and_ he punched me. But it was only on the ear,” Rafael adds fairly.

The lump in Alec’s throat eases slightly at Rafael’s story. Max might not be a Lightwood by blood, but he has Jace’s recklessness and Izzy’s headstrong conviction, so it would have been just like him to act before he knew exactly what Rafael was trying to say.

He chances a glance at Rafael's Dad, and finds him looking down into his lap, forehead creased and lips pushed into a small pout. As if sensing he’s being watched, he looks up, meeting Alec’s eye. Alec offers him the tiniest smile, which Rafael's Dad returns, and he nods his head gently in their kids’ direction with a look on his face as if to say, _what are they like?_

“Thank you for sharing that, boys. That can’t have been easy,” Mrs Branwell says. “I think the root of problem here seems to be a misunderstanding about what Rafael said to Max at the start of the year, do you agree?” Both of them nod. Mrs Branwell looks up. “Mr Bane, Mr Lightwood: I’m sure you can appreciate that this topic is both sensitive and personal to the boys, but also to yourselves. Are you happy to keep this conversation going?”

Alec nods, glancing reassuringly at Max, and Rafael's Dad clears his throat.

“Of course,” he says. 

His voice is like melted chocolate. Alec should definitely not be having those kind of thoughts right now.

“So,” says Mrs Branwell, her voice contemplative, “you both live with your dads. That’s one thing you have in common - it’s a start. What else do you think you might share?”

Slowly, the boys start listing things. They take it in turns, and more than once a suggestion gets shot down (apparently Rafael _really_ does not like pirates, and for a second Alec can picture Max literally starting World War III), but, incredibly, in just over fifteen minutes they’ve come up with a whole bunch of things they have in common. 

Mrs Branwell leans back in her chair and smiles at them. “So, next time you two see each other in class, or at recess, instead of thinking about all the things that you’ve argued about, you could think about the things you share. Things you could talk about.”

Rafael is smiling as he nods, and Max is doing that thing he does when he’s trying to be cross at Alec - he sucks his top lip into his mouth to stop himself smiling, but his dimples show anyway, so it’s basically futile.

Mrs Branwell holds up a finger. “I think you’ve made a great start, boys,” she tells them. “But there’s one more thing I think you need to do before you go home for today.”

Rafael blinks at her, waiting for her to speak, but it’s Max’s voice that comes to them.

“Apologise,” he mumbles.

Mrs Branwell nods. “Exactly.”

Max takes a deep breath and looks at Rafael. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that I punched you and I’m sorry I said your food is weird because it actually smells really yummy and I’m sorry that I’m really good at dodgeball and I hit you that one time.” 

It was going _so well_. Alec scrunches up his face.

He hears a soft sound and looks over to see Rafael’s dad has his mouth hidden behind ringed fingers, and he looks like he’s stifling a laugh.

It should be illegal to be so pretty, to be honest.

“I’m sorry I lied about you pushing me off the swing,” says Rafael. “I’m sorry I said your drawing was rubbish even though -” he bites his lip just in time, and this time Alec _and_ Magnus have to try not to laugh.

Rafael holds his hand out in between himself and Max, and Max looks at it for a moment, bewildered, before he realises and shakes it. He smiles at Rafael.

“Good,” says Mrs Branwell. “This is good. You’ve done well today. We’ll do this again next week, and see how things go,” she says.

“Can we go home now, please?” asks Rafael. 

“Sure,” smiles Mrs Branwell. “See you tomorrow.”

∞

Alec stares at the display unit in disbelief. One everything bagel remains. He’s practically drooling. 

Simon clears his throat. “You okay there, buddy? You spaced out a bit.”

Alec holds up a hand. “Let me have this,” he says. 

Everything is going right for once - Max is _happy_ , he and Rafael haven’t been called to the Principal in four weeks, Izzy’s on cloud nine after she and Clary got engaged on a Paris mini-break, his Mom hasn’t tried to set him up with any girls recently and _there’s an everything bagel left in the shop_. 

He even smiles at Simon as he orders.

“One everything bagel and a cappuccino with an espresso shot to go,” he says. 

Simon looks mildly disturbed. “What’s wrong with your face?” he asks. “Ah, a glare. _That’s_ better. I know where I stand with a glare. I -”

He shuts up, staring at someone behind Alec. 

Alec turns around, glancing to his side and then back to Simon, and -

And then back to the person at his side.

Because that’s -

“Mr Lightwood?” asks the man. 

Rafael’s Dad.

“H-hey,” Alec says. Rafael’s Dad shoots him a smile. Alec casts around for something to say. The best his brain can come up with is, “Do you come here often?”, but in his defence, Rafael’s Dad looks stunning today. 

He’s wearing a loose teal shirt draped with a host of silver necklaces, and pants that -

They _shimmer_. Which is fine.

“I do, actually,” says Rafael’s Dad, and it takes Alec a moment to remember he’d asked him a question. “They have amazing everything bagels, but…” Rafael’s Dad reaches out and taps one painted fingernail on the glass, looking disappointed “…they’ve run out today.”

Alec can’t help chuckling. “I know how you feel,” he says. “They’re usually gone when I come in, too.”

Simon makes a strangled noise, a cross between _nnnngh_ and _here._ Alec reluctantly drags his gaze away from Rafael’s Dad and turns it to Simon.

“Thanks,” he says, expecting Simon to be attracting Alec’s attention so he can hand over the coffee and bagel, but Simon’s hands are empty. Instead he’s making some weird jerking motion with his head and his eyes are wide behind his glasses as he looks in Rafael’s dad’s direction.

“What the hell?” asks Alec.

Simon huffs and buries his face in his hands. He emerges a moment later looking newly calm, and he holds his hands out as if making introductions.

“Since I don’t know either of your names, you’ll have to make do with the ones I’ve given you in my head,” Simon says. He gestures to Alec. “Grumpy Cat, meet Velvet Thunder. Velvet Thunder, meet Grumpy Cat.”

Alec looks at Rafael’s Dad, nonplussed, and is reassured to see Rafael’s Dad is looking at Simon like he’s sprouted another head.

“Seriously? How have neither of you seen Brooklyn Nine-Nine? Not the point, never mind.” Simon clears his throat importantly. “Post-It note receiver,” he says to Alec, then to Rafael’s Dad, “Post-It note giver.”

Alec stares at Simon for a moment, thinking, _what Post-It note?_

And then -

Oh. _Oh_.

“ _You’re_ the one who keeps stealing the last everything bagel?” Alec blurts out before he can stop himself.

Rafael’s Dad raises an eyebrow. “Guilty as charged,” he says, shrugging. “Tall, masculine, handsome - I see what you mean, Salmon. A chai latte, please, and a blueberry muffin, since you don’t have any more bagels.”

Simon rolls his eyes as he feeds the order into the till. “My name tag is right here,” he says, pointing to his badge.

Rafael’s Dad throws Simon an unimpressed look as he hands him some money. “You just called me Velvet Thunder,” he says. “I should think that gives me renaming privileges for at least two months.”

“It’s a good thing,” Simon protests, counting out the change. “Right. A chai latte, an espresso shot and a cappuccino, coming up.”

Alec blinks out of his daze and looks at Rafael’s Dad.

“I’m glad the boys are friends now,” Rafael’s Dad says softly. “Well, getting there, anyway.” He watches Alec for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “Rafael and Max,” he clarifies, as if Alec was in any doubt.

“Yeah,” Alec manages oh-so-eloquently. “I mean, _yeah_. No, it’s great. It’s really good. Max seems a lot happier - I hope Rafael is too.”

Rafael’s Dad nods and collects his blueberry muffin from Simon. “I don’t know if they’re ready yet, but maybe Max could come to our place after school one day. You know, for tea.”

Alec nods. “I’ll ask him, definitely. Thanks.”

Rafael’s Dad looks Alec up and down, tongue peeping out to trace his bottom lip. Alec feels hot all over.

“You could come too, if you wanted.” Rafael’s Dad offers him a coy smile. “I’m Magnus, by the way.”

“Alec,” says Alec. He knows he’s blushing when he says, “I’d like that.”

Simon rudely interrupts the moment by pushing the drinks towards them. Magnus gestures around them and looks at Alec.

“I have nowhere to be for an hour,” he begins, “if you wanted to sit and chat - about the boys, obviously.”

Alec’s lips twitch. “Obviously.” He checks his watch. He really does need to go to work or his Mom’ll do more than just meddle in his love life with a side of homophobia, but -

Magnus is looking up at him - slightly, only slightly, ‘cause he’s _tall_ , how did Alec not notice this? - with a hopeful smile, his eye make-up shimmering beautifully even under the industrial lights of the coffee shop -

Screw it. _Screw it._ He’ll do overtime or something.

“Sure,” says Alec. “Where do you want to sit?”

Magnus looks around and picks a table by the window. Simon’s voice pipes up just as they’re walking away from the till counter.

“You’re not going to go all When Harry Met Sally on me, are you?” he asks.

Magnus, who’s managing to keep his coffee perfectly still even as he winds elegantly past the other tables, pauses. He turns back to Simon with one hand placed over his chest. “Sherman,” he begins in an affronted tone, “I can’t believe you think _I_ would reference anything so heterosexual.”

∞

It’s not a _date_.

It’s a progress report.

A - a - an update. A strategy meeting. A parental conference. A -

“Discussion about your actions, going forward,” fills in Izzy, looking deeply unimpressed. “Yeah, you told me that one before. Only, when you go to business meetings normally, you don’t spend this long on your hair, or change your shirt five times, or -” she arches an eyebrow, hand on hip “- do your talking over _dinner_ at one of the fanciest restaurants in New York.”

Alec runs a nervous hand through his hair and then smooths it down again frustratedly. 

“People do professional dinners,” Alec protests.

Izzy walks over to him and straightens his tie. Over her head he can see Clary reading a story with Max, who’s snuggled into her side in his pyjamas. 

“People do,” says Izzy, but that’s all she says, and Alec isn’t quite sure what to make of it. Her eyes soften. “I’m just happy for you _._ You deserve someone nice in your life.” Her lips twitch. “Whether as a date or as someone to share… _progress reports_ with.”

Alec isn’t sure how she manages to make progress reports sound so sexual, but he blushes anyway.

“We’re not sharing anything,” he says.

Izzy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like you didn’t share a bunch of coffees, or go for lunch at that Ethiopian place, or half a bottle of wine when Rafael came to play last week.” She eyes him, amused. “Max told me he and Rafael got so bored of waiting for Magnus to take Rafael home that they both fell asleep.”

“That’s - that’s not -” Alec’s hand goes to his hair again. “ _Hermana_ ,” he says, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, _hermano_ ,” Izzy says, placing her hand on her arm and rubbing soothingly, “go and have a good time. We’ve got Max, he’ll be fine. _You_ go and have an amazing night with the hilarious, beautiful guy you haven’t shut up about for literally the past four months.”

Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he tugs Izzy into his arms and kisses the top of her head.

∞

Magnus Bane is incredible.

Alec feels lighter than air as he watches Magnus’ eyes - dusted with pink powder and skilfully outlined in dark khol - drift over the menu. The tip of his tongue wets his bottom lip ever so slightly as he turns a page, which just about does for Alec, and Magnus glances up to find Alec fixed on him rather than the menu he’s supposed to be looking at.

But he doesn’t tease, or smirk. He just looks rather pleased, and gives Alec a smile.

Alec clears his throat and tries not to be a creep. “You look amazing,” he says, gesturing at Magnus’ general outfit.

Magnus’ smile widens. “Thank you,” he says, and then his eyes rake over Alec’s shirt and hair. “So do you. And so does this menu - what are you having?”

“Oh, uh…” Alec opens his menu and skims it. “I’m not sure yet, I -”

“I can ask if they do everything bagels,” Magnus offers, eyes twinkling.

Alec can’t help the laugh that bubbles past his lips. “Oh my God.”

Weirdly - or maybe not so weirdly - the Post-It notes have disappeared recently, to be replaced by Magnus himself. He always hangs around in Java Jones for a few minutes once he’s got his coffee, waiting for Alec to arrive, and Magnus gleefully waves the last everything bagel in Alec’s face before he heads off to work and leaves Alec staring after him like some helplessly-crushing teenager.

“I can’t believe you like beef jerky in them,” Alec says as he scans the menu.

“How do you know that?” asks Magnus, and then, at the same time, he and Alec say:

“Simon.”

Alec smiles, but then he catches sight of the glint in Magnus’ eye.

“Please don’t make a meat pun,” he says hastily. Magnus laughs, loud and bright.

A waiter appears to take their order and on Alec’s request Magnus picks out a bottle of wine for them to share. There’s a beat of silence after the waiter departs, and Alec is dreading the moment it turns awkward when Magnus segues seamlessly into a story about one of his latest work clients. Alec finds the story hilarious and Magnus awe-inspiring. How can one person retain that much linguistic ability in a situation like this? Alec’s brain never seems to co-operate on dates, especially dates with a person who he’s attracted to as much as Magnus.

Alec manages not to make too much of a fool of himself, though. He gets through story after story about Max and Izzy and Jace without stumbling, and he doesn’t knock his wine glass over when he takes Magnus’ hand over the table, and he only blushes for a maximum of five seconds (okay, ten) when Magnus enquires if Alec wants dessert.

When Magnus raises an eyebrow at him, the trace of a smile on his face, Alec blushes deeper and mumbles something apologetic about his mind going to the gutter.

“Oh, darling,” says Magnus, dropping him a glittery wink, “that’s the best place to be.”

∞

Because Magnus is an absolute gentleman, he insists on walking Alec home.

He intwines their fingers on the way back, which makes Alec lose his line of thought for a good while, lost in the tingling feeling of Magnus’ warm skin against his. Alec swings their hands a little bit and Magnus sends him a surprised smile.

“Well, this is where I live,” says Alec, and then amends, “Max and I.”

He’s not keen for the night to end, but he _is_ keen to keep Magnus out of Izzy and Clary’s view so that they don’t ruin the perfect evening by coming out to interrogate him or tell him embarrassing stories about Alec. So he walks them on to a bench just around the corner of the block and sits down, gesturing for Magnus to join him.

For something to do, he acts out an exaggerated version of the yawn move, which has Magnus giggling adorably. Alec grins, pleased with himself for making Magnus laugh, and he doesn’t realise Magnus is tugging on his arm and wrapping it around his own shoulders until it’s -

Well, around Magnus’ shoulders.

It pulls them closer together, so close that Alec can see individual specks of glitter on Magnus’ eyelids and feel his warm breath against his cheek.

“Tonight was wonderful,” Magnus offers, smiling.

Alec can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, we should do it again sometime.”

Magnus nods. “I’d like that.”

Alec swallows, eyes dropping to Magnus’ lips. He opens his mouth, but Magnus is quicker.

“Alec, can I kiss you?” asks Magnus, a question that sends shivers of anticipation running down Alec’s spine.

He nods once, a sharp jerk of his head that probably looks entirely inelegant and - 

He’s being kissed. 

Magnus presses his lips to Alec’s, tentative, gentle. Alec can’t help the soft sound that escapes him, and tilts his head, changing the angle and drawing Magnus closer. 

Magnus draws back only to breathe. His eyes glint gold in the streetlight as he leans in again to kiss Alec, and Alec is at once entirely certain Magnus is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://lesbianclaryfairchilds.tumblr.com), folks


End file.
